


Brother Martyr Traitor Friend

by aTasteofCaramell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Blame it on the Rowling, Canon Compliant, Dramatic Irony, Everything Hurts, Fidelius Charms, First War with Voldemort, Gen, Marauders Friendship, Marauders' Era, Nothing is okay, Pre-Series, Protective Remus Lupin, Protective Sirius Black, Sad, Sirius Black is a jerk when he's scared, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author is Seriously Reconsidering their Life Choices, There's basically nothing happy about this, Unhappy Ending, everybody loves James
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 18:03:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12965259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aTasteofCaramell/pseuds/aTasteofCaramell
Summary: James knew there was a traitor in the Order. He knew Sirius and Remus would do anything to protect him.He didn't know that included killing each other.





	Brother Martyr Traitor Friend

It all started going wrong from the very start. The moment James led Sirius into the living room and he saw Remus already sitting on the couch his lip curled slightly and his friendly demeanor vanished. “Well, look who it is. Hello, Moony.”

Remus, who had been looking tense ever since arriving, sat up even more stiffly. He said in a neutral, expressionless tone, “Good evening to you, Padfoot,” and drank from his glass. Peter looked back and forth between them.

“None of that,” Lily said immediately, picking up a glass from the tray and shoving it into Sirius’s hand. “Sit down, Sirius, we’re here to relax, that’s all.”

“It’s—it’s pumpkin juice,” said Peter haltingly. “Lily made it. Very good pumpkin juice, almost like Hogwart’s...”

“Thank you,” said Lily. She shot a look at Sirius, who was simply standing there and glowering at Remus.

“Please,” James pleaded, taking a seat next to Peter. “Don’t. Dumbledore will be here in half an hour, and I want you all here. This is our last chance to be together for who knows how long, what with you going into hiding and Remus going north—”

“Very convenient, isn’t it?” said Sirius, still looking directly at Remus. “Having an excuse to leave directly, and stay away…very kind of you to bother coming down here, right before a long journey…”

“James,” said Remus, his gaze fixed on Sirius. “Have you decided who your Secret-Keeper will be?”

Sirius sneered. “That’s something you'd like to know, is it, Remus?”

“Sirius!” James said warningly, then to Remus, “We’ve decided it’ll be Sirius, Remus. You know that. It hasn’t changed.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any point in asking you to reconsider?”

“It’s decided, Remus!” snapped Sirius. “and you can take that information and shove it.”

Remus took another sip, but it looked as though he did so with enormous effort. Peter spoke up, timidly. “Can’t…can’t we just enjoy our drinks?”

“Shut UP, Peter!” Remus and Sirius snapped simultaneously.

James set down his glass with a loud  _clank_. “Don’t tell Peter to  _shut up_ ,” he said, beginning to get angry. “You’re being childish, both of you. I’m not going to let you argue when—”

“I’m not arguing, James,” said Remus quietly. “I just hoped that you would select someone less—risky.”

Sirius lounged against the doorframe. He held his glass to the light and said, almost inaudibly, “Says the werewolf.”

Remus’s lips thinned. “What’s that supposed to mean, Sirius?” he said, very audibly.

Sirius swirled his glass. “Well, since you asked…”

“Not  _now_ , Sirius,” James said, but Sirius ignored him.

“Let’s look at the facts, shall we? You would have quite a bit to gain, wouldn’t you? You must admit, spying for Voldemort has quite the alluring reward. Poor werewolves, outcasts from society, finally have a chance to demand respect, finally a chance at a normal life…well, a  _more_  normal life…”

“At the cost of my friends?” Remus asked, his voice still calm. He smoothly drank the last dregs of pumpkin juice, but his knuckles were whitening around his glass. He lowered it from his lips and narrowed his eyes at Sirius. “What sort of  _fool_  would make that trade? Unless, perhaps, he was extremely rash—”

“What’s a few friends,” said Sirius lazily. “when the entire world could accept you, on pain of death or bite? What’s a few friends when you no longer need them to buy your robes for you?”

Remus leapt to his feet. “Look at the troll calling the giant thick,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Let’s compare histories, shall we?  _Black_? You say I’d betray my family for new friends? What about trying to win an old one  _back_?”

Sirius was still leaning against the doorframe, but he put his hand in his pocket and eyed Remus warily. “ _James_  is my true family, it’s been that way for years. Only morons would deny it—”

“It’s not James’s blood that runs through your veins, much as you’d like to pretend it does,” Remus said scathingly. Pink spots appeared on Sirius’s cheeks.

“Remus!” said James.

Remus, too, ignored him, his voice even and controlled. “And it’s blood that matters, doesn’t it? To Voldemort’s followers. To  _you_. Dark magic runs through your pristine, uncontaminated blood. Black genetics is where you get the flawless looks you’re always bragging about. Black was your upbringing and influences. You’re Black to your core and beyond. You can hide a toadstool’s spots, but you can’t change them.”

“I was disowned!” The pink spots had turned to a deep, angry red. “And I disowned  _them._  You’re bringing up things that aren’t relevant anymore!”

Remus spoke louder, “Did you, or did you not, attempt to find Regulus last year?”

“To convince him to change sides—”

“Says you,” said Remus.

“—on  _Dumbledore’s_  request!”

Remus's hand, still holding his empty glass at his side, trembled. “And yet you never found him, you said—or did you, only the conversation didn’t go  _quite_  as Dumbledore planned?”

James had stood up without realizing it. Lily moved closer to Remus, and she said furiously, “ _Apologize_ , the pair of you, and I'll make you sit down if I have to—”

“I beg your pardon, Moony,” said Sirius, pushing himself up and standing straight, lips pulled back in an almost animalistic way. “I should’ve gone easier on you. Times are rough, are they? I’ve noticed you’ve been looking a bit shabbier lately. Not letting James buy things for you anymore? Is that a guilty soul I detect? Wait, I’ve forgotten—do werewolves have souls?”

There was a brief moment of horrified silence. James leapt forward on instinct. "NO!" Remus made a convulsive movement towards his hip. Sirius crouched. The air sparked as it became charged with chaotic, deadly magic, swirling and snapping as it searched for an outlet, causing all of James’ hair to stand up on end, and the cabinet doors to bang open, and two of the glasses on the tray to explode into slivers. Peter let out a terrified cry. Lily shouted, “NO, REMUS!”

Remus and Sirius both jumped forward with their wands out, then froze as James’ body dove between them. “NO! STOP IT!”

Sirius hesitated, and the air sparked again and he darted to one side. James tackled him, shoving him back against the wall with a crash, hands grasping at Sirius’s wand. “Stop, Sirius! Stop it right now!” and Lily cried behind him, “Remus, no! Put it down!  _Please,_  put it down!”

Sirius was fighting him, sweat shining on his face, his breath hissing through his teeth, growling furiously. “ _Sirius!_ ” James risked letting go of his shoulder and slapped him across the face, then grabbed his chin and forced Sirius to look at him. “Stop! Snap out of it!”

Sirius stared at him a moment, panting.

“Lower your wand, or I’ll take it from you,” James threatened. Sirius’s gaze flickered behind him, then his body relaxed. James let him go and turned around. Remus was standing in the middle of the room, arms limp at his sides. Lily stood in front of him, hands on his shoulders, but he was staring through her, eyes unfocused, chest heaving and his mouth shut tight. He had gone horribly white; his scars stood out on his face, a bloody, rusty red. The only other time James had seen him this angry was when he’d found out that Sirius had very nearly allowed him to kill Snape.

It was then that James realized the noise had woken Harry; he could hear him crying in his upstairs bedroom. Rage erupted in his chest. “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?” he roared. “WHAT’S THE MATTER WITH YOU TWO? YOU WILL NOT RIP EACH OTHER TO PIECES, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

“Don’t give me orders, James!” Sirius snarled, looking furious.

Remus let out a great cry of rage, or pain, pointing his empty glass at Sirius. He seemed to have forgotten he was still holding it. “SOMEBODY STANDING IN THIS ROOM IS A TRAITOR, AND IT ISN’T ME!”

“Oh, it isn’t, is it?” Sirius growled. He and Remus glared at each other with agonizing hatred. “The cleverest strategizer, the most talented liar out of all of us, the greatest propensity for worming his way out of trouble, the one so excellent at appearing innocuous and unsuspicious that he’s never in the wrong place at the wrong time, always has the teachers convinced he’s completely innocent, the lone wolf who always listens but rarely speaks—”

“AND YOU?” Remus shouted. “YOU CLAIM YOU’RE SO CLOSE TO JAMES AND LILY, WELL, YOU’RE IN THE BEST POSITION TO FIND OUT EVERY DETAIL AND GIVE IT OVER—AND THE ONLY ONE RECKLESS ENOUGH AND FOOLISH ENOUGH TO DO IT UNDER THEIR NOSES!”

“You admitted to being approached by werewolves and asked to join their ranks!” Sirius shot back.

“VOLDEMORT ASKED JAMES AND LILY AS WELL! SO WHY HASN'T HE ASKED YOU WHEN YOU’VE ALREADY GOT A DEATH EATER FOR A BROTHER—UNLESS YOU’RE KEEPING SOMETHING FROM US!”

Peter’s hands were shaking so badly that the pumpkin juice was sloshing out of his glass, spilling onto his trousers as he stared at the floor. James thought he saw tears welling in his eyes, but he couldn’t worry about Peter just now.

“THIS IS WHAT HE DOES!” James shouted, momentarily gaining both of their attention again. “This is what Voldemort does, gets in between us, turns us against each other—”

“Dumbledore’s the one who told us there was a traitor, James!” Sirius interrupted.

“He didn’t say it was  _one—of—us_!” A spot on his ribs was throbbing; Sirius must have accidentally struck him in their struggle earlier. “And even if he had, he’d’ve been  _wrong_. I  _know_  you. All of you.  _You_  know each other. I don’t care how likely it seems, or how convenient—I know you. None of you would betray the other. I  _know_  you.” He turned to look pleadingly at Remus. There was an intense struggle in his face; the slightest bit of color had returned, though he was still very pale.

After a moment, he seemed to have regained some control over himself because he was no longer shouting when he said, voice quivering slightly, “You trust us too much, James.”

“How  _dare_  you!” Sirius spat. “How dare you stand there and act as though—”

“I’ve had  _enough!_ ” James interrupted again. Harry was still crying upstairs, but he and Lily seemed to be in agreement that he simply had to wait. “You  _will_  stop. Right now. You will not harm each other, not here in my living room, not out there—” he pointed to the curtained window, “in battle. What were you going to do just now?” His voice started to shake, unexpectedly; there was an enormous, painful lump in his throat; “Would you have done it? Really?” He stepped back, his shoes crunching on broken glass, looking between Sirius and Remus. They both glanced at him, then looked hurriedly away. “You would have  _attacked,_  maybe  _killed_  one of your dearest friends over something so worthless as a  _suspicion_?” He pointed one finger at each of them. “I want you both to apologize.  _Now._ ”

There was another silence. Then Remus said, very quietly, “No.”

“Remus,” said Lily.

“No,” Remus repeated, simply.

James felt a searing pain in his chest, splintering apart. He said, desperately, “Sirius?”

Sirius glanced at him again. He at least had the decency to look slightly ashamed of himself. Then he dragged his gaze back to Remus. “Remus,” he said slowly, “My…old… _friend…_ ” he took a deep breath, looked plagued with indecision. He glanced at James once more, and seemed to make up his mind. “I have no doubt that, given the choice, you would rather not hurt James, Lily, Peter, or even me, but let me tell you right now: if you do, if you so much as make a move that makes me think you might, I  _will_  kill you.”

Peter dropped his glass. It shattered on the floor. The room felt like it was rotating very slowly. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t.

“Sirius,” said James, weakly, but he could no longer make himself sound angry. This felt too surreal, too unnatural, too empty. “That…that is bang out of order.” His statement was absurd in its insufficiency.

Remus didn’t appear to hear; he stared unseeingly into space, unmoving, and then, without warning, he simply turned and walked quickly and quietly from the room.

“No, Remus, don’t—” Panic injected life back into his veins. He whirled and pointed at Sirius, looking at Lily. “Don’t let him leave!” Then he ran out. “Remus! REMUS!” Remus was on the front walk, looking up at the sky when he caught up. “Remus, please, don’t go,” James begged. “Don’t let this happen. I’ll talk to him, he shouldn’t have said that, any of it, but…he’s scared. He doesn’t think straight when he’s scared. He’ll be sorry later, just…please, help me. Please don’t let us fall apart, not after all this time...”

Remus, still looking at the sky, said softly, “Sirius started tearing us apart the moment he started reporting to Voldemort.”

“Remus—”

Remus looked at him. “I know you love him, James, and I believe he loves you as well. But please, whatever you do, don’t make him Secret-Keeper. Let Dumbledore do it. I’ll see you soon.” He started to step away. James grabbed his arm.

“Remus!”

Remus looked down, mild confusion on his face. Then it cleared as he said, “Oh. Sorry.” He held something out; James took it automatically. It was the empty glass he’d been holding. In that brief moment when James’ hands were full of things other than his arm, Remus turned on the spot and Disapparated with a crack.

It took James a full minute of struggling to control himself before he could work up the motivation to go back inside. He was exhausted, and thought desperately of a Sleeping potion—to be able to just lay down, forget this ever happened—maybe he would wake up soon, find out it had all been a terrible dream…

When he came back into the living room, Sirius was standing where he’d left him. Peter was breathing shakily, shivering and obviously trying to hold back tears, and Lily was silently repairing glasses. She looked up when he entered, eyes moving over his face.

“James,” said Sirius, and the sound of his voice sent a surge of fury through him. “Can I have a word?”

James glowered at him, but Sirius either didn’t notice his anger or didn’t care. “I’d  _love_  one,” said James. “Let’s get Harry.” He took Sirius by the arm and marched him out of the room, dragged him up the stairs and into Harry’s room. He only let go to pick his son up, who quieted and started hiccupping. James had so many choice things to say that he couldn’t decide on any of them, and so he turned on his heel and marched right back out of the nursery without saying anything, Sirius directly behind him.

“James—”

“What  _was_ that?” James demanded at last, stopping on the staircase’s landing. He only managed to stop himself raising his voice by recognizing that it would upset Harry if everyone started shouting again. He could see down into the living room where Lily was now helping Peter mop up his mess of spilled pumpkin juice.

“It’s about the Fidelius Charm,” said Sirius, apparently electing to ignore the question. “It can’t be me, James.”

This was so completely unexpected that James didn’t answer at first. He just stood blinking at Sirius, confused, the anger still swirling within him with no outlet, and then said, “Of course, Sirius, I’d never force you to—”

“It’s not like that!” Sirius grabbed his shoulder so hard it was painful.  “I’d give anything—you know I’d do anything to protect you, my brother. But…we must change it. In secret. To someone else. So that no-one knows. I’ll still say it’s me, I’ll still go into hiding, let Voldemort hunt me. But if I’m the Secret-Keeper and he finds me, and kills me, and then everyone who knows where you are become Secret-Keepers…"

James’s anger leapt at the opportunity to show itself. “If this is about Remus, Sirius—”

“I know you don’t believe me!” Sirius said desperately. “Do you think I want to believe it? James, it kills me to even suggest it—I love Remus, as you do, but—”

“You threatened to  _kill_  him!”

Sirius grimaced. “You don’t think he’d do the same to me, for you, if our roles were reversed? Look, it doesn’t matter—”

“It  _doesn’t matter?_  Sirius!” James stepped away, but Sirius kept a death grip on his shoulder. “If I really matter to you, Sirius, you will  _not_  kill him under  _any_  circumstances!” He let out a quiet, shaky laugh. “Listen to me, telling my brother not to kill my best friends. I can’t believe I even have to say it.”

“I won’t kill him, James,” said Sirius, blinking hard. “Not unless he gives me a reason to—no,” he added, as James opened his mouth again, “Not unless I witness betrayal with my own eyes. And I promise, if I find conclusive proof that he isn’t the informant, I’ll ask his forgiveness the next time we meet.”

“It might be too late for that,” said James, voicing the great swell of sorrow pulsing in his veins, remembering the look on Remus’s face. “He might not give it.”

Sirius didn’t acknowledge this comment. “Remus is right about one thing: you trust us too much, James. That trust will kill you if you let it. But listen, if someone else is Secret-Keeper, I can be a diversion. I can help protect the real Secret-Keeper…”

James rubbed his eyes. He felt so tired. All he’d wanted was a night with his friends…and now he felt as weak as a shattered wine-glass bound up with Spellotape. “All right,” he said heavily. He didn’t have the willpower to argue anymore. “I can see how that would help, I suppose. But who d’you reckon on being the real Secret-Keeper?”

“Wormtail.”

“Wormtail?” James stared at him.

Sirius’s eyes lit with an eager fire. “Yes! It’s perfect, don’t you see? No one will suspect him.”

“And if he’s the traitor you’re so certain is among our closest friends?” asked James, a little coldly.

Sirius made a frustrated sound and released his arm. “It’s not Peter. He won’t so much as blow his own nose without our say-so. He jumps at his own shadow. If he ever saw Voldemort he’d shake himself into pieces before he’d got a word out. He—”

“All right, I get your point.” James glanced back down into the living room. Lily was sitting next to Peter now. He was weeping into her handkerchief. “He won’t do it, Sirius.”

“Yes he will. He will if you ask him, James. He adores you. Besides, he’ll be perfectly safe. Voldemort won’t give him a second glance. He’ll be too busy hunting me. He probably doesn’t know he exists,” he added, a little scathingly. “He’s the most useless member of the Order, easily.”

James didn’t have the energy to tell him off for insulting Peter—besides, he was right. “All right. I’ll ask Peter and Lily, and if they’re willing, and Dumbledore thinks—” But Sirius was shaking his head again. “What?”

“Let’s just keep it between us,” said Sirius. “You, me, Peter, Lily…that’s all.”

“Don’t tell me you suspect Dumbledore now!”

“No, of course not! I just…” Sirius took a deep breath. “Dumbledore trusts fewer people than you, James, but he’s too confident in the ones he does trust. I would just feel better if only the necessary people knew, that’s all.”

James raised his eyebrows incredulously. “How exactly are we supposed to keep it from him? He’s the one performing the charm!”

Sirius waved his hand carelessly. “Just give him Peter’s blood and tell him its mine. And I’ll still be leaving tonight as soon as it’s done, still go into hiding like we planned. He won’t know the difference.”

“Fine!” James said, exasperated, and still feeling like he was on the verge of a complete breakdown. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.” They went down the rest of the stairs, but James paused at the bottom and looked into Sirius’s eyes, frowning. “I’m furious with you, you know.”

“I know,” said Sirius, looking somber. “I’m not enjoying it, I assure you.”

James smiled weakly, then impulsively threw one arm around him and hugged him tight. This sandwiched Harry between the two of them, and he let out a small sound of protest. “Merlin, I’m going to miss you.”

“Don’t get all weepy on me, Prongs,” said Sirius, ruffling Harry’s baby-thin black hair. “It won’t be for long. Wars don’t last forever, you know.”

**Author's Note:**

> I almost regret writing this. It was painful. Darn you, Rowling.


End file.
